


miles to go

by staticbees



Series: stopping by woods on a snowy evening [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:55:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticbees/pseuds/staticbees
Summary: Church never expected to make it off the Staff of Charon alive. He does.





	1. The End

Church sighs. 

 

_ This is my last stop.  _

 

He hesitates a moment, staring at the Reds and Blues. 

 

He’s pretty sure the Reds won’t miss him; even after they found out the armies were simply simulations created by Project Freelancer, they stuck together, refusing to join the Blues. Not that Blue Team wanted them, anyway. There’s always been tension between the two teams, and he has a feeling that even though they’ve banded together to fight a common evil, if they all went back to Blood Gulch, they’d just start fighting again. 

 

_ This is only way to save them all. _

 

He figures Tucker and Carolina might mourn him, but they’re strong people. They’ve experienced loss before. Epsilon’s pretty sure they’ll stop thinking about him after a few weeks, at most. He was kind of an asshole anyway, so it’s not like many people will get that worked up over his death.  

 

_ Out of everyone I’ve ever met, I hate you all the least. _

 

Besides, they’re not the ones he’s most worried about. 

 

He turns his gaze to Caboose. He’s never been particularly fond of the cobalt soldier, but he knows Caboose cares about him, and despite his annoyance, it’s almost cute, in a puppy-that-follows-you-around-and-breaks-your-shit-all-day kind of way. He knows Caboose might carry on thinking he’s still alive for a while, but once he accepts that Church is gone for good… He’ll be devastated.

 

_ If I don’t come back, you’re in charge of remembering me, okay? _

 

Epsilon almost feels bad, disappearing like this without so much as a goodbye. But hopefully the letters he recorded beforehand will do the trick. The Reds and Blues find them after the battle, recorded files labeled with their names. Or, at least that’s the plan. For all he knows, they might find them years after. They might never find them. Or they might not make it through the battle at all. All he’s sure of is that he won’t be there to witness it. 

 

_ In the end, they just have to have faith. _

 

He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. There’s burst of brilliant white light, and shards of himself splinter off, like shattered glass. A broken mirror, reflection distorted. He can feel the world slipping away, oil in water. He takes a deep breath, and lets go. 

 

_ Ain’t that a bitch. _

 

And everything goes black.

 


	2. The Beginning

The first thing Church notices is that he’s freezing. Not just mildly cool; a frigid, burning cold that seeps into his bones and sends frost creeping across his armor, leaving ice burns on the pale blue surface. 

 

The second thing he notices is that he’s still alive. For now, at least. 

 

All he can see is a blinding white, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the bright light that makes his eyes hurt. He can barely breathe, breaths coming shallow and weak. There’s a dull ache in the back of his head, and it feels like the air is filled with thick molasses, making it hard to move. 

 

Somewhere, in the rational center of his mind, he knows that he doesn’t  _ need  _ to breathe, that A.I’s don’t  _ get _ cold, but he feels like he’s outside in the middle of winter, without a coat on. It seems so real that he can’t convince himself it’s not. His face burns, the bitterly cold air stinging his skin. 

 

Swirling snow obscures his memories, blurry and faded behind a wall of white. He struggles to walk forward through the blizzard, pushed back by harsh wind and thick snow.

 

There’s a muffled voice, calling his name, and he glances up, startled.

 

_ Church. _

 

It sounds familiar, like someone he should know. His head pounds, and he grits his teeth, fists clenched by his sides. He has to keep walking forward. He has to find his way out of this storm.

 

_ Church, can you hear me? _

 

He hesitates a moment. There’s a sharp tug in the back of his mind, pulling him upwards like a hook. He lets it take him, and the snow clears. A soft white light surrounds him, so different from the harsh blizzard from before, and he takes a deep breath, revealing in the sudden warmth, before opening his eyes. 

 

He flickers to life, the glow of his holographic projection dim and faded. A woman with bright red hair and green eyes stands nearby, looking concerned. He feels like he should recognize her face, but he can’t place it with a name, or a place, or anything, really, can’t reach what he knows is right there. The only thing that he remembers is a feeling; an overwhelming sense of belonging that seems utterly out of place for someone he’s never met. At least, not to his memory. 

 

He stands there for a moment, staring up at her, before finally finding his voice. It’s weak and trembling, just barely there, but it’s better than silence. 

 

“Who are you again?”


End file.
